


Snow In Egypt

by TocaMorirLento



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Confessions, F/F, First Christmas, Firsts, Gifts, Honesty, Late Night Conversations, Locked up, Macarena Ferreiro - Freeform, Mistletoe, Slow Romance, Snow, Soft Zulema Zahir, Time - Freeform, Unfiltered, Winter, Zurena, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TocaMorirLento/pseuds/TocaMorirLento
Summary: Their first christmas... is a bumpy one.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 15
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not good with summeries😂 And I have a writing disorder so I am sorry for any grammar mistakes✌🏼

Like the snow in Egypt, love, delicate as a snowflake, enclosed the odd lovers unexpectedly. But just like the steadily falling snow outside, their peculiar love, the most fragile thing mankind owns, did not sway for one second. It came back year and year around. And with each returning cycle, reminded them that the world has been an ever running current, that at times pushed them a bit apart. But this Christmas, their first together, would wash them into a common stream. They had the perfect requirements; little food, no heater, no presents, only themselves, their caravan and time.


	2. A Wish

In the night, snow had taken over the world, tucking it away under a safe blanket of white fluff. And hidden beneath that white quilt stood a caravan. Steady like the seasons not to be moved.

It was overlooking the frozen lake and the white frost dipped fir trees surrounding them.

The world was calm, awaiting the rustle and bustle of the Christmas spirit. While inside, life slowly began to wake.

It was quite inside for a while, just their steady breathing was breaking the comfortable silence within the caravan.

Only when the unmistakable winter sun, reflecting on the snow outside sneaked in between the curtains and through the milky windows of their minimal home to dip their content sleeping faces in a honey golden shine, it was that Zulema began to wake.

Raven colored eyebrows furrowed for a second as the intruder tickled her skin. And a groan arose from behind her. The blond loosened her tight embrace around the older woman, rolled over and buried herself under the blankets to seek shelter from the sun.

Zulema however smiled softly before she finally opened her eyes. Other than her grumpy companion, Zulema found pleasure in early mornings. It was almost as if she seeked them. They made her feel alive, and after a decade of missing out on sunrises and sunsets, she woke up early just to catch a glimpse of life being born, and in the afternoon she watched it fade away. It reminded her that everything is temporary. Although, she didn’t want it to be true.

Sheets rustled as the older woman stood up definitely. Only to get a complain from the blond, who lost the only warmth the caravan had to offer during winter, besides the thin blanket she was hiding under right now.

Rather unbothered, the ravenhaired put on a random sweater she found on the floor and helped herself to a cup of tea. Once ready she wrapped her hands around the cup and walked outside into the cold world to watch the sunrise and listen to the hopeful promises of the birds jolly songs.

For a while the bird’s songs were everything the older woman heard. Soon enough however, her mind was invaded by unwanted memories of yesterday.

Macarena had asked her what she wanted for Christmas, more out of curiosity than anything else really, after all neither of them dared to take a step forward. They were locked in place, teasing and fighting but never giving in.

The scorpion told her nothing. Both knew that was a lie... Christmas to Zulema had more meaning. Besides, everyone has wishes, even if they’re impossible to realize.

Now, outside she decided to write down her wish, addressed at no one. Just for her mind to rest, to get that thought out of her mind that brought her more pain than anything else. She would write it down just to burn it to the ground. A silly wish that would bring her nowhere anyway. And so she did.

I know what I desire most. Of course, I know what I wish for. For Christmas, for birthdays, when a shooting star crosses my path… I want my childhood back. No, not back. I want to be able to remember a cheerful childhood that I never had. The privilege to reminisce about things I never could experience because the world had different plans for me. I know that nobody is going to be able to give me that. No one can make that wish come true for me. I don’t want that either. The only thing.... The worst part about it is that I couldn’t even gift it to my own daughter, couldn’t live it with her, through her... And then she was taken by the wind. I might be able to give a false memory to myself, if I try hard enough I might find one or the other memory that isn’t too bad. But by thinking that she was lying to herself. The only constant things in her life were death, pain and abuse. But all I will ever remember is that when all the other children wrote their Christmas lists I was busy riding alongside the four horsemen of the apocalypse. My culture doesn’t celebrate Christmas. So whom could I blame. I know it doesn’t make any sense at all. But what is that anyway? Hell, my wish is about a child that never existed, the cold child I was forced to become to survive i this world. The one waiting behind those walls I’ve built. Guarding a black heart but eager to break through if only I’d let it. An impractical child, an unrealistic idea, simple-minded and worst of all terribly vulnerable to the dangers of the world, love, affection you name it. Because she is cruel; the world. But today I shouldn’t dwell in the past. I am free.

She wrote it down, but she would dwell all she wanted. She had lost too much. What else had she left besides the money they had stolen? It couldn’t buy her what her heart desired the most, her daughter...

Today should be about creating new memories, happy times for our tomorrows and being able to look back on those we have already created and relive them.

She left the piece of paper behind for the world to take a toll on, just like it had done with her.

And walked into the woods.  
A few minutes later Maca decided to wake up, she went outside to look for the other woman but only found her cup of tea and a scribbled piece of paper that was about to be lost to the four winds. She reached for it before it was taken away and read it. It felt wrong but she did it either way. This woman wouldn’t talk at all. Hence, she picked up everything she could to learn about her.  
When Zulema finally returned from the woods, Macarena found a melancholic look in the other woman's eyes. She caught the raven haired’s eyes searching for the piece of paper she had left behind. But she only found it to be empty. The piece of paper was gone.

“I know we are supposed to hate each other and I kinda don’t care about Christmas, but you do, so your bad mood is cancelled, get your ass inside, and we’ll decorate and bake something.“

Zulema waited for the blond to disappear inside before she let her smile escape. That stupid blond. She shook her head, following her inside. She was thankful to have someone like her.


	3. A fight around the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok trust me it will become ridiculously christmasy after the next two chapters🎄

They didn’t get to have a peaceful time though. Something Macarena had said during their baking session had upset the scorpion.

“Why can’t you for once, just once be you. You push everyone away... out of fear, out of hate I don’t know! But I want to get to know you. The real you!” The blond had yelled enraged.

And while that in itself was nothing bad at all, it set something in motion within the older woman. Zulema wasn’t used to people actually wanting her. Much less not judging her for her past. But what bothered her even more was, that her mother had said the exact opposite thing. Hearing those words from the blond now send her down into a black abyss of self-doubt.

Her own pride had kept the raven haired woman from being the mother she herself had wanted to be. Thereby, she was no better than her own mother. Sure, she may haven’t sold her child to an old man, but she had sold her little innocent soul to the world. Knowing that it would perish her eventually.

Maybe she did it, so she could blame someone else for the inevitable, maybe she did it because in the end she had loved her too much. She didn’t know, much less make sense of it. And that made her miserable.

Hence, Zulema did what she did best, and searched for shelter in the dark of night. She ran away, vanishing in to the twilight to deal with herself in peace.

Just as the night was about to befall the world, Zulema grabbed a bottle of wine and sat down amid the snow on the lake shore,

Maca had grabbed one herself. This woman was a riddle. She would watch her for a while, patiently from afar, careful not to invade her privacy to early.

Minutes turned into an hour, and with it the sun turned red then purple and blue, and Zulema sat there on the shoreline, watching it fade away. Reminding her once again, that everything is ephemeral. Silently, she drowned the freezing cold night along with her thoughts in the heat of the alcohol.

Soon enough both of them had emptied a bottle. Leaving them both drunk and hurt. But at least they felt something that way.

They weren’t happy, far from it, but they didn’t want to fight anymore.

So the blond went outside. Knowing that the woman, freezing on the shore was hiding her unaddressed trauma. She was aware that the older woman was drowning it right now in a red puddle of wine. She knew, that the blood the woman had shed during her lifetime had not been glistening with justice. Red and angry was all it had ever been. But now the red liquid that was blurring her mind, was warm and lovely, burning her from the inside out, keeping her warm while muting all her unwanted feelings.

And Maca knew that she went from one addiction into the other, rather than allowing herself to feel the hurt, that makes us human and feel alive. And how she barricades all her insecurities and fear behind walls that were to build up around her brick by brick with every hit life slapped her with.

It was normal for her to withstand common feelings like pain or sorrow. 

Maca knew because every time she came to close, Zulema would run. She had never shed a tear in front of her, but maybe when she offers herself wholeheartedly, maybe then Zulema will break completely to be realigned. Perhaps then the blond could seal those broken pieces then. In the same way the Chinese do with broken ceramic. And make the broken more beautiful than before.

Suddenly, Macarena understood something else, seeing her there so luminous in the moonshine, so breathtaking yet fragile, she had a shine to her that was oddly endearing. And Maca simply had to look, although she didn’t do anything else than stare into the distance, Macarena couldn’t tear her eyes off of the other woman. In hope that maybe, just maybe at some point her light would shine on to her to. 

She was beautiful, so breathtakingly beautiful, so luminous right then.

Perchance all they had ever needed to shine was the dark of night.

It was at that moment that Macarena came to understand, that she had used to look at her in the same way she had squinted at the sun. In that she had never acknowledged her at all.

She would be content and bathe in her warmth, but complain once she was gone. Never having caught a glimpse of her at all. When she was curbed, she complained. And on days when she was to strong, she searched for shelter from her. She never looked at her directly, until she was leaving her, and now with the silvery moonlight shining through her cracks, she wondered why she had never dared to look at her before.

On the other side Zulema, just like she created troublesome heists that were to possibly kill her. She was now drawn to the things that threatened to break her heart the most. Macarena.

Her facade had crumbled one day at a time, and although it’s not gone entirely she felt it diminishing more and more with each passing day. Allowing her to feel something else than doubt, anger and sadness.

Staring at the lake Zule thought about the fuck-ups life had thrown at her, about Maca, everything yet nothing in particular. She had reached the end of her road. Although, with no one else around but the blond, she didn’t have to run to far for peace of mind. As much as she despised it, she felt safer by her side.

Her body was washed over by that feeling you get when you look at something and think wow this... this feels like home. I am safe. She suddenly had an unexplainable ache to go home. Zulema.

With the intention to touch the contemplating woman like the moon touched the water, Maca dared to step closer. And closer. Silently, yet loud enough to let Zulema hear her approaching. She was giving her time to stop her. Time they didn’t need. The scorpion was calm, didn’t move a muscle. Just stared into the black abyss before them, awaiting the touch of her Lady serendipity. 

Eventually, the blond stepped behind the older woman, who by now had stood up.

Standing, amid the falling snow sparkling in the moonlight. She stepped into her bubble and still, Zulema did not move. Even when Maca let her arms slip between Zulema's and clasped them on her belly. Nuzzling her face in the crook of her neck. She stood steady. And as she shielded her from the hurt of the world a shiver went down Zulema’s spine. They needed no words as both of them knew what was going on inside the slim woman relaxing in Macarenas embrace.

But she said them anyway. 

“I’m right here.“ she said softly. Although there was more meaning behind those words. Let go. You will never live a happy life if you keep on holding on to things that are gone for good, if you blame yourself for things you had no power over. It wasn’t your fault. But it will pull you underwater if you keep on insisting on it. I won’t let that happen. I’m right here, and I’ll catch you if you fall.

Maca hadn’t had to say it out loud Zulema knew. She knew they were true. And desperate she let her head fall back, resting on Macarena's shoulder. Searching for answers in the infinite sky. But her eyes only reflected a pattern of stars, vaguely resembling her own misery. There seemed to be no answers to the simplest questions.

“How? How would you know?” She asked still facing the sky. In a way helpless. She never learned how to cope with feelings. And so it was easier this way... not facing her biggest fear.

“You.

When you pulled me out of the washing machine... I heard you. I heard you and I didn't want to leave. You stayed by my side. Keeping me alive. It’s all you ever do. Saving the doomed... And I was scared of....”

Zulema didn’t know if it was the alcohol that caused her inner fight to calm a bit by the defeat, or the sudden revelation. But she was slowly starting to swing the white flag.

If the blond was willing to love her with all her flaws, even after all the pain she had inflicted on her then maybe this was meant to be no? 

“Right here.” She whispered absently, interrupting the blond.

Understanding the truth but not acknowledging it. She was running towards the past, chasing after ghosts when the most important person was right there.

She too, was right here but wouldn’t she betray herself by moving on, and those that got lost on the way? Would they be forgotten eventually? Would those people fade into oblivion gone without return?

Maca understood the pain, she had lost too. But she was real, alive. She wasn’t a ghost...

And all Zulema wanted to know, at that moment, was where she was to put her heart without threatening to break it again. “Right here.” Her lips repeated on their own. Right here. And still, I love you against all my will.

And so despite the thick air between them, they shone a little brighter. They felt closer at that moment of realization, even then.

She almost let it roll over the tip of her tongue. Almost, but she managed to resist. Love... it meant too much to her. So she never said it, neither did the blond. Those three words, they kept them locked away. But in the end they didn’t have to say them aloud, their bodies spoke for them. And that had to be enough. She gave in to the predicament of fate.

In a smooth motion she turned them around. They looked at each other. Their eyes searching for something. Anything that said NO. But there was only the silver kiss of the moonlight lingering between them, and the shimmering snow crystals falling chaotically to the sounds of their beating hearts around them.

And then she reached for fair hands, pulled them up to her lips and gave Macarena’s palm a tender kiss. And with it, the sky started falling down on them, threatening to crush the unsheltered heart she had let their hands rest on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Thanks for reading☺️💕💕


	4. Giving in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I will honor you in my heart.”
> 
> “And try to keep you forever.”

Zulema had made herself a promise to never fall in love again after Hanbal. And she had never intended to break it. But it was past 12 o‘clock and while their lips were dipped in lilac blue by red wine, their minds were blurry from the alcohol.Their heads were in the clouds and right there, at the shore of the lake, she felt herself fall for the blond.

Frustrated, she let her glance drift back to the calm waves by her feet, almost as if she was expecting the water to endow an answer for her.

An answer she had already received, one that scared the shit out of her. Because a Scorpion isn‘t used to being loved.They are maverick. As a matter of fact “affection” is a stranger to them. And being confronted with it now terrified her. 

She was terrified of all the things she was willing to do for the blond. More so, of the endless possibilities of getting hurt again.

Life had made her wary, but Maca knew exactly what the older woman was going through. It was her life too...

The blond could sense it, her fear, the doubt that the other woman tried to hide. It made her want to no, need to free the older woman of that burden. Hence, she gently tugged at her hand. Asking to face her fear.

Zulema did. Their eyes met anew and Macarena leaned in with intention to fill the raivenhaired up with a little bit of life again. To take the doubt away, but she didn’t dare close the distance just yet. That was up for Zulema to decide. To choose between life; or the end of it. 

Maca gave her time. She was so close she could smell the others parfume, her nervousness, the scent of home. 

”This is possible; deep down you know it, that’s what terrifies you, no?“

Zulema was hesistant, she knew that fear and future go hand in hand; that sooner or later life would catch up to her; and that she was simply delaying the inescapable.

“Fear is the wrong way in life.” She admitted, although her voice betrayed her. She wasn’t ready to go down that road. 

Thus, instead of kissing her Rubia then, she embraced her tightly, closed her eyes and held on to her like a rock in the water. All the while the smell of home washed over her with calmness. It always did. 

And on their own, amid the falling snow, they started to sway in a delicate dance under the silver moonshine. She didn’t run away. Zulema had accepted that every time she’d try to, Macarena would happen to her all over again. Stronger than the previous time.

There was no way out it seemed. And as the snow melted under their heat, Zulema let herself be enclosed by the warmth, the long forgotten feeling of a heated embrace from a lover. She allowed herself to get lost in the blond entirely. And for an insignificant moment in time, she allowed herself to give up the fight, against that foreign feeling of affection welling up insideof her. She felt understood and that seemed to be the most intimate thing.

They stayed like that for a while longer, simply dancing around the inevitable; the kiss, as long as possible because the older woman knew that once she’d let herself go entirely, once their lips met there was no going back...

Time passed, Zulema's mind was running, Maca was dancing and the world around them kept on spinning.

Until eventually, Zulema had found enough valor. She tilted her head so her lips could explore Macarena’s neck carefully. For a change, she wasn’t trying to trigger a low lusty moan by sucking and biting on her skin. Quite the contrary,  her touch was as delicate as the shimmering ice crystals falling around them. All Zulema wanted was to experiance her throughoutly with every sense. 

Her touch, barely there yet as passionate as ever kept on exploring her elegant figure. The older woman’s hands travelled up the blond's spine slowly. Cherishing every vertebra on it’s way, while her mouth was on a mission of it’s own.

And Maca? She got lost in the hot lingering touches on her skin. She felt Zulema invading it, crawling under it and all the way up to her heart. This time however, her touch didn’t sting. It felt safe. And the warmth of her blue stained lips scraped lightly, ever so slightly over her exposed collarbone, up to her throat, and when the raven haired's fingertips came to linger on the back of her neck, not yet daring to cup her face, the blond felt the warmth of those tinted lips on the corner of her mouth. Macarena couldn’t help but smile into the contact.

And the stars up on the firmament seemed to be proud of Zulema’s bravery, shining down on them just a little bit brighter that night.Indeed, with every heavy breath that escaped the dark between their lips, with every touch of her innocent lips, the world around them became more alive.

Ultimately, shaky hands slipped around the blond‘s face, cupping it reluctantly as if it was to break if she would hold it to tightly. 

The both of them couldn’t resist much longer. Hence both of them leaned in and when their lips collided. It was like a supernova that knot their lifes together eventually.

This was different from the times before. Sure they had fucked before, made out,... but this was something else. It was unrelented love. Neither one of them gained anything from it. 

It wasn't about letting of steam or the simply satisfaction of pleasure. No, this was love without explanation.

It had taken them over, way before they had learned to love at all. 

They were silent lovers and right there they spoke in another language with each other. With their bodies and their burning lungs. And every breath the dark let out was taken in eagerly by the light. They kissed and kissed and kissed some more, filling each other with words unspoken for, “I love you” they dared to say only with their tongues and teeth and all of them. 

The blond had always wondered, during all those times they had done it before; when she had encountered Zulema’s eyes darkening with lust, and their joined breathing getting heavier, she had always wondered, how those amaral green eyes would look when they would fall in love.

She received her answer when the burning sensation in their lungs became to much. They parted, they watched; and while Zulema found soft honey colored eyes, Macarena found Sapphire colored ones that had robbed the moon of it’s light. After all, she was still a thief.

_You are the most wonderful and at the same time most saddest way in which the world showed me that in life you can't have it all. This was never supposed to happen._ _This isn’t fair._

Why is it that you love Christmas so much, the younger woman interrupted her train of thought. “When you don't even wish for anything; I mean.” Zulema had a feeling the blond knew precisely what her heart desired. She had read her letter. Invaded her thoughts. Crossed the line.

She signed returning to face the shore once again, allowing Macarena to embrace her tightly. She took her hands to her mouth and started to kiss her fingertips softly accompinied with her reasons why. 

Her lips gently kissed the first finger.

“In 1914 the British, French, and Germans made an unofficial truce for Christmas. They sang Christmas carols to each other, filled the nomads land with their voices. And at the first light of dawn they climbed out of their trenches, screaming Merry Christmas in their native tongues. They shoke hands with each other as if to make peace. But mostly, they were just tired of war.” And so was Zulema.

Then the next one over. “It was christmas and they wanted to celebrate together, exchange gifts, do joined burial celebrations, hell they played football together and sang carols. They were happy even though they knew that this truce wasn‘t for forever, that perhaps they‘d return to war the next day. But for one night, for one night, the world was at ease for them. For the first time in months, they stood amid the nomads land and all they did was listen to the eerie silence that was befalling the land around them.” Zulema was listening to her own silence. 

She moved to the third one.

“It combines the five love languages. Quality time, gifts, acts of kindness, physical touch and words of affirmation. We think about all the nice stuff around christmas and it produces a chemical within us. I don‘t know how and I don't want to know.But it makes us happy. And we remember... If we can, the good things. If not we create new ones.” They were.

The fourth. “And there is that story of Charles Dickens. Christmas isn't always light and happy, that we are reminded that sometimes we all need a little bit of help if we want to or not. That we have to hot rock bottom because only in the dark we have the chance to shine.” And Maca smiled into the kiss she placed over her shoulder, on Zulema‘s collarbone, Zulema did shine. She was her light of life. 

The fifths. “It's when everyone shows a different side of themselves.” With a sign the older woman tried to hold back her tears. When did she become so sentimental?

With a sad small laugh she proceeded. She switched hands and her lips met the sixth. “The year dies away but we cheer. Why don't we celebrate life when someone goes too?“ When I go... you should celebrate the life we had, not the loss of me.

The seventh. “The way that you celebrate Christmas will eventually turn into a tradition and you will be remembered. You will live on in a tradition. Even when you're gone.”

The ninth. “It's the Christmas spirit everyone knows that shit.” A deep chuckle left her lips at her own silly sentimality right then. She had grown old. And she despised it. Life, was about to take away the little good that she had left. She scoffed. “A smart author once said I will honor Christmas in my heart.”

“And try to keep it all year.” Maca finished for her, whispering it past her ear and into the night. It was their distorted confession of love.

With the tenth she turned around.

“So I love Christmas because it's when the heart gets tired of fighting. It’s the only thing than can calm even the most troubled hearts and bring them peace. With christmas I can be the child I never had the chance to be. I could wake up in the middle of the night and look out the window to adore the stars, or I could sneak into see the kitchen and eat all those cookies that are left for Santa, or I could simply... be. Life comes and goes but christmas will always be there at the end, giving you a reason to be happy; gifting you with life. But right now I am tired, of life..., myself..., the world.”

No, she was tired of fighting. What if they do work out in the end? 

“I can't give you that, but I can be here. And we can create new stories, and burry the past. Perhaps we can go back to the start and get to know us all over again.”

Something was wrong. However, she didn't ask. If Zulema want to share, she would.

“We have time.”

_We don't._

“I can't give you that. I can’t recover a childhood that never was. But if you allow me in...

Perchance, we can build a place like that together. A place, where we can grow and fight those your demons. They may bring the best of you forth. And I will be there watching from the sidelines. I will show you that it's okay to give up at times. I'll be patient even though it’s a difficult task because we both get easily frustrated. But I promise you that I won’t make you fell unloved or block you out, or make you feel as if you have to escape in order to be your true self. Because thats, not what you deserve! I'll be there and I’ll be patient. And I want to be able to throw my arms around you and assure you time and time again, that we'll be alright. I want to give you a place that’s filled with warmth and happy memories and joy and light. A place where you come home to and feel like you belong. And perhaps together we will find out how precious and valuable life really is. And I know that we are far from perfect but it's all I have to give. And it's all that you deserve. And I know that you hate sentimentality and everything that belongs to it but please... at least give me a chance to get to know you. The real you.”

“I am tired...”

Macrena simply kissed her again to take away her remaining doubts. The taste from their battlefield was only a faint after taste, their scars were there on their skin but they we're beginning to heal.

Breathlessly, they rested their foreheads against each other. It was more intimate than any kiss could have been. Zulema felt safe, understood. And under the canopy they were at peace. Perchance for more than just a moment. Perchance this was forever?

“Perchance we can be for longer.”

“Perchance we can.”

“Perchance.”

“I'm dying.”


End file.
